


can I stay right here in your garden, love?

by moonmotels



Series: Stella Rose [1]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F, cordelia drinks the whole time, it's fine, yeah my bitch is an elf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:09:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21906511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonmotels/pseuds/moonmotels
Summary: elf on the shelf, but make it gay
Relationships: Misty Day/Cordelia Foxx | Cordelia Goode
Series: Stella Rose [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1608871
Comments: 8
Kudos: 102





	can I stay right here in your garden, love?

**Author's Note:**

> merry christmas from your fave lesbians

“Mommy?”

Cordelia lifts her head off the pillow and blinks herself out of a deep sleep; blurry eyed and disoriented. She’s still clinging to a half dream at the forefront of her mind, something with flashes of blonde hair and sunshine.

“Yes, my love, I’m awake. Mommy’s awake.” 

Stella stood at the side of her bed clutching her stuffed alligator and looking way too enthusiastic for the clock to be reading 6:17am. “Can I watch Paw Patrol? Pretty please?”

_All this over a stupid show about rescue dogs?_

“You need to eat breakfast first. Let me get up and I’ll make it.”

“It’s okay, I already eated some cereal. I didn’t even spill the milk, promise.”

“Frosted flakes don’t count as breakfast. I’ll make you some eggs, hm? Does that sound okay?” Cordelia finally manages to sit herself upright, lifting her daughter into her arms to press a kiss on her temple. Time seems to be flying by, so she relishes the fact that Stella still adores being held by her mother. Her dark blonde hair hung in strands around her sharp hazel eyes, smelling like kid’s apple scented shampoo and faint traces of play-dough. It’s Cordelia’s favorite smell in the universe.

Downstairs, Cordelia comes alive with the first sip of coffee, effortlessly scrambling eggs and setting them down at the kitchen island. “Stella, baby, come eat these.”

“I’m not hungry,” she calls from where she’s stacking legos to resemble a princess castle.

“You need to eat or we can’t watch Paw Patrol.”

Stella scrambles up and sits on the chair, short legs swinging beneath her as she digs in.

Cordelia plates her own food and sits across from her, so utterly content with their simple life. Two months after she found out she was pregnant, her boyfriend Hank of twelve years left her high and dry, apparently unable to ‘handle’ being a father. Seven months and a terribly nasty breakup later, Stella had come into the world with an uncanny resemblance to her mother and a set of working lungs. Five and a half years later, her and Stella lived comfortably in a spacious loft uptown, the two of them against the world.

“What did you want to do today, Stell?”

Stella feigns thought, considering her options. There was the park, the movies, a play date- 

“I wanna see Santa.”

Cordelia is glad Stella can’t hear her internal scream. She hated taking her to the mall. Too many screaming children, single dads to avoid, and the snippy mall Santa who definitely does not get paid enough to listen to what snotty children want for Christmas.

“Are you sure?”

“Yup.”

“We haven’t seen Frozen 2 yet.”

“No, mommy, I told you Eloise didn’t see it yet, we can’t go without her.”

Eloise was Stella’s best friend, who happens to be the daughter of Coco; Cordelia’s best friend. “Okay,” she resigns, kissing her forehead and taking the empty plate to the dishwasher. “We’ll go see Santa.”

After four episodes of what Cordelia would call a mindnumbingly stupid show, Stella insists on dressing herself in a pair of blue leggings with stars to match her namesake and a pink sweater plastered with Elsa’s giant cartoon face on the front. As Cordelia pulls her own outfit on, she yells, “I’m ready!”

Clad in her own pair of skin tight black jeans and a chunky white cable knit sweater, Cordelia fastens her earrings and calls back, “Make sure your shoes are on. Do you want me to call Auntie Coco and see what Eloise is doing later? Maybe we can have dinner.”

“Yes, please.”

Cordelia maneuvers them through mall traffic, thrumming her nails on the steering wheel to ward off persistent thoughts about how annoyingly crowded the place is. It seems, to her, that the holiday spirit has infected absolutely nobody with the way people honk and yell just to get a spot closer to the front entrance. Sliding her car into a spot that feels nearly a mile away, she unbuckles Stella’s car seat and lifts her out, setting her on the ground.

Hand in hand, Stella gazes wide eyed at the mall decorations; the stores that pander to every child’s desire with toys and games every way they turn.

“Can I get a princess bike like Eloise has?” she is staring with rapt attention at a child’s bike complete with handlebar tassels and Disney princesses decorating the box.

Cordelia neglects to mention that the same bike is sitting in her garage all wrapped up waiting for Christmas morning. “Not today. We’re here to see Santa, remember?”

Stella brightens up at the reminder. “Do you think he’ll get me a princess bike if I ask?”

“It’s certainly possible if you’re good.”

“I’m always good.”

Cordelia can’t even deny that, swooping down to swing her into a bear hug. “I know you are, baby. I know.”

The line to see Santa is unbearably long, full of children excitedly babbling on about what they’ll ask him for and parents that could care less about it as they scroll on their phones. Cordelia is always full of appreciation for her daughter; especially so that she’s inherited her mother’s quietness as they wait patiently. Stella rests her head on Cordelia’s shoulder, quiet and calm as Cordelia rubs comforting circles on her back. 

“What else are you going to ask Santa for?”

“I dunno,” Stella yawns, and with the way this line is going, she’ll be missing her afternoon nap. “Maybe a Paw Patrol stuffed animal.”

Another gift that Cordelia has stored in the garage for the time being. She must have a knack for this motherhood thing.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Stell.”

The line slowly creeps forward, and Cordelia finally gets a good look at the winter wonderland set up. Giant ornament balls line the pathway up to Santa where he sits on a giant throne surrounded by two candy canes taller than Cordelia. Elves are bustling around, handing off smaller candy canes and comforting small children that sob as if their world has come to an end. 

Finally, _finally_ , Cordelia and Stella are next in line. She sets Stella down on two wobbly feet, clearly in the throes of exhaustion after having waited forty-five minutes to have a two minute interaction with Santa.

A flash of blonde hair piques Cordelia’s interest, and she turns fully to face an elf that has bent down to hand Stella a pen to write her name on the Christmas list she clutched in her hands.

“Do you need your mama’s help writing your name on the envelope?” 

“No,” Stella says proudly, “She taught me how to write my name.”

“Oh!” the elf exclaims, “Well your mama must be super duper smart then.” The tousled blonde finally stands eye level to Cordelia, and a bell starts ringing incessantly in the back of her mind. For being here, in the middle of a life size gingerbread house, this elf is the prettiest woman Cordelia has ever seen. The excess of blonde hair is long and wild; and Cordelia wants nothing more than to reach a hand up and run her fingers through it. The defined bicep muscles under the thin green shirt is making her head swim. Don’t even get her started on that _face_. 

The elf extends her hand to open up the gigantic mailbox, where Stella drops her Christmas list in and looks up at her mother for approval. Cordelia would give it to her if she hadn’t just lost her damn mind somewhere in the last thirty seconds.

Making the elf costume look incredibly good for being an ugly shade of green, the woman gives Cordelia a quick once over, brightening into a smile that has no right being so sinfully beautiful.

With the name tag proclaiming her Misty, she glances down at Stella and says, “She’s smart _and_ pretty, your mama is. You didn’t tell me that!”

Stella giggles.

Cordelia blushes.

“I’m- thank you.” She can’t find the right words after being rendered speechless at how stupidly hot this woman is.

Misty gives her a cheeky grin and unhooks the gate for Stella to scramble through. “Hop up there with Santa and my friend is gonna take your picture, alright?”

“Thank you,” she calls, already halfway to the throne.

Cordelia took a few of her own photos before turning back to Misty, who is smiling as though she’d never seen such an adorable sight.

“Mist- Misty? Can I call you that?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, of course. That’s me.”

“Cordelia,” she offers her hand, and when Misty takes it, she swears stars explode behind her eyes. Misty is so warm and inviting and unbearably good looking that it’s making her head hurt.

“What a pretty name. Matches ya pretty face.”

“Oh, stop,” she ducks her head.

“What’s ya lil one’s name? She is the cutest little thing. Looks just like you.”

Cordelia’s heart swells. “That’s Stella, Latin as in-“

“Latin for star, I know. It’s a beautiful language.”

“Yeah,” Cordelia smiles, “she was the one thing I looked towards the most while I was pregnant, like the North Star, you know? My only guiding light during the worst time of my life.”

Misty simply smiles back at her and waits for her to continue.

Cordelia is mortified that she’s already said too much, quickly backtracking. “Sorry, God, I talk too much when I’ve only had one coffee. Forgive me.”

“No,” Misty touches her arm and conveniently can’t tell it leaves sparks of fire in its wake, “You talk all you want. It’s much better than conversing with half these people here. Plus Stella is the most adorable kid I’ve seen all morning.”

“You have to say that to every parent.”

“Nah, scout’s honor. You wanna know something else?” Misty leans in for this, nose accidentally brushing strands of soft blonde hair. She smells of honeysuckle and peppermint, two opposing scents that make a wonderful combination. “Santa is a fucking _asshole_.” 

Cordelia bursts out in surprised laughter, clapping a hand over her mouth when the woman behind her in line shoots her a dirty look. “He is _not_.”

They’re interrupted by Stella charging at them. “Mommy, he said I can have the bike and my very own puppy.”

 _Thanks, you dick, now I have to get my kid a dog_ , Cordelia thinks, and Misty seems to read her mind with the way she muffles her own giggle. The gesture is overwhelming, especially when Misty catches her staring.

“Well, thanks for, you know, being so nice. Say thank you, Stella.”

Stella has her tiny fingers wrapped around a candy cane, sticky with saliva and sugar. “‘fank you. Can you tell Santa I said bye? And that I want two puppies so they can be best friends like me and Eloise?”

Misty very seriously nods her head, “You betcha. Have a wonderful Christmas, okay?”

Stella nods.

“It was nice to meet you,” Cordelia says, taking her non-sticky hand and leading her away, but not before turning and mouthing, “I like the hat.”

Misty’s hand flies up to the pointy hat sitting atop her mop of curls and grins in reply.

After ordering overpriced professional photos to send to her mother because God forbid Cordelia take her own iPhone pictures, she allows Stella to have a slice of food court pizza. With all the sugar in her system, what’s a little more junk?

As she naps in the backseat on the way home, Cordelia calls Coco and invites her and Eloise over for dinner, promising pasta and wine for the two of them.

Putting Stella down in her bed, Cordelia takes the time to prep a meal for four, downing a glass of wine - or two. The mall has left her stressed, but then again the holidays always did. It was just a reminder that she’s been alone for five years too long, has been on too many shitty dates with men who can barely keep it in their pants and want to come home with her; changing their minds immediately when Cordelia mentions her daughter that occasionally crawls into bed with her.

Maybe she should try dating women again.

 _A_ woman. A certain blonde woman with long blonde hair and perfect blue eyes.

When the doorbell rang, her thoughts are quickly shuffled to the back of her mind as Stella came flying down the hallway to fling the door open.

“Eloise come see my room! I got more legos for the castle.” The two ran back down the hallway, all but ignoring their mothers as they sat at the kitchen island.

“Hi, babe,” Coco says, humming her content at the wine already set out for her.

“How are you, Co?”

“I’m fucking tired. El wants all this shit for Christmas and her dumbass father keeps promising it to her. I’m single-handedly keeping Amazon in business.” Coco’s ex-boyfriend and her co-parent Eloise as best they can, still remaining friendly for all intents and purposes.

“Yeah, but at least he didn’t promise her a real puppy like the mall Santa did today.”

“Jesus, who hires these people?”

“Idiots, I swear to God.”

The two continue chatting over sips of wine, until finally Coco sets her glass down and pauses Cordelia’s story about the freshly divorced dad who asked for her number at pick-up last week.

“So are you going to tell me who you’re thinking about?”

“I’m not - there’s no one _to_ think about.”

“You tap your nails when you’re anxious and you bite your bottom lip when you’re distracted over something else.”

“I don’t like you.”

“Tough shit, are you gonna tell me or will I have to ask your perfect little angel who you’ve been going on dates with?”

“Coco,” she hisses, “there have been no dates.”

“But there is someone.”

“No. I mean - no, it’s absolutely nothing. Maybe a dumb semi-crush that will amount to nothing.”

Coco sets two elbows on the table and cradles her chin, pestering Cordelia with a sickeningly sweet smile. “What’s his name?”

She answers in a voice barely above a whisper, “It’s not a him.”

“Say that again so I know I heard you right.”

“I swear to God I would hit you if our children weren’t down the hall.”

Coco merely flits a hand in the air. 

Cordelia downs her glass. “She’s an elf at the Santa set up at the mall.” A full body cringe takes over when Coco neglects to reply for a beat too long.

“That’s - not what I was expecting. You’re getting your rocks off to an elf? Maybe I should rethink my Christmas gift and get you an elf on the shelf.”

“Fuck you,” Cordelia replies, standing to retrieve another bottle from the fridge. Coco snatches her wrist and pulls her back down, forcing her to confront this conversation head on.

“I want to hear all about it.”

“I said maybe three words to her.”

“Were they ‘please fuck me’?”

Cordelia chucks the wine cork at Coco’s head, who dodges it with grace.

“I’m just worried about you, alright? Your vagina probably has cobwebs.”

“There are no cobwebs.”

“You should have asked her out.”

“I don’t even know that she likes women, I can’t be asking strangers out.”

“Please, everybody is a little gay. It’s 2019 for God’s sake.”

“I cannot stand you.”

“Just tell me about it,” Coco whines petulantly, just like their children.

“There’s nothing to say, she’s nice and pretty and she loved Stella. That’s it.” _She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, I just want to hold her hand and make her breakfast in the mornings._

“The blind and deaf would love Stella. Tell me more about her, what’s her name?”

“Misty.”

“Cute. Brunette, blonde? Pointy ears?”

“I really regret ever becoming your friend.”

  
After pulling out every painstakingly minor detail from Cordelia, Coco drops the subject. Over plates of spaghetti and meatballs, both moms listen as their girls ramble on about Christmas and legos and their school’s winter wonderland ball next week.

When they’d settled the debate on whether to have oreos or sugar cookies for dessert, the four clamber onto the couch in the living room, queuing up Frozen for possibly the hundredth time this month. 

Stella curls up next to her mother, eyes drooping but still watching the tv with fascination like she hadn’t seen the movie six times in theaters. She only tears her gaze off screen when Coco innocently asks, “Stell, how was the mall today?”

“Good, Auntie Co. I saw Santa.”

“I heard, baby doll. You know, I was thinking-”

Cordelia interrupts her, already knowing where this was going. “No.”

“Anyway, I was thinking that your mom and you could come with us tomorrow to see Santa again. El hasn’t seen him yet, wouldn’t that be fun?”

Both girls cry in excitement at the idea of spending the day together while Cordelia shoots a deadly look over their heads that Coco pretends not to see.

Stella is asleep with her head in Cordelia’s lap by the time the credits roll, when Coco gathers an equally asleep Eloise in her arms and winks. “See y’all tomorrow morning.”

“Using our children as a pawn to see me squirm should be illegal.”

Coco blows her an over-exaggerated kiss. “Love you.”

At 11am sharp the next morning Cordelia is disgruntledly getting back into the abysmally long line at the mall, this time with Coco badgering her every chance she got.

“What are you going to say to her?”

“I’ll say hello, like a normal person.”

“No, I mean like when she says ‘ _hey Cordelia, you’re really hot and I wanna bone._ ’”

“In case you forgot, our children are here.”

Coco looks down at the two of them, much more interested in comparing stuffed animals than they are their mother’s conversation. “Yeah, they’re fucking riveted.”

“Again, I hate you.”

Coco ignores that. “So are you going to get her number?”

“No.”

“Ask her what it’s like to work year-round for a fat old guy?”

“If we weren’t in public I’d-”

“Cordelia?”

Cordelia whips around at the voice that has become the subject of all her most recent fantasies. “Hey there.”

“Hey yourself,” Misty looks down at Stella and Eloise, “You brought a friend! Who’s this?”

Stella proudly introduces her best friend, “This is Eloise, and that’s my Auntie Coco, my mommy’s best friend.”

“Ah, sure seems like you keep good company,” Misty slyly looks at Cordelia; who is too engrossed with the way her fingers curl around a notebook to notice Coco pinching her back.

“Coco,” she introduces herself, extending a hand, “You must be Misty.”

“Live and in the flesh.”

“Funny and a pretty face, interesting.”

Misty goes to answer when an elder woman dressed as Mrs. Clause sneers, “Are we going to have parents waiting around all day?”

She quickly snaps back into work mode and ushers them in to see Santa, barely tossing back a casual goodbye that Cordelia immediately responds to.

While their girls get their picture taken, Coco all but shoves Cordelia towards Misty; who has just gracefully handled two screaming children with a soothing tone. “Go ask her out. She’s wearing a fucking thumb ring, if she’s not gay I’ll pay your rent for the next month.”

“Absolutely not, no.”

“If you don’t, I will.”

“You will not.”

“Do you want to die alone?” 

“Jesus, okay, I’ll do it.”

She starts over towards Misty, palms uncharacteristically sweaty. Halfway across the floor dusted with fake snow, she catches Cordelia coming towards her and strides forward.

“Just can’t get enough of the big guy, huh?”

“What? Oh, yeah, he’s great. Really looks just like the real one.”

Misty laughs heartily, all lips and teeth. “Yeah, he’s certainly something. That’s your best friend?” She gestures towards Coco, who is doing a terrible job at pretending to be texting someone.

“Unfortunately. She’s great but, you know, always has something up her sleeve.”

“Hm,” is all Misty replies, and Cordelia wants to ask her if she knows that her face could bring entire cities to its knees.

“So I was wondering, if, um-“

Misty looks as if she’s practiced her entire life to respond to whatever question will come out of Cordelia’s mouth.

Cordelia falters with the steady eye contact and fumbles around her words, sounding like a complete and utter idiot. At the last second she chickens out and asks, “Is being an elf your full time job?”

Misty’s brow quirks in confusion for a split second. “Well, no, not really. It’s just a seasonal thing, you know?”

Disappointment bubbles up in Cordelia’s lower gut. A violent blush rises to her cheeks out of shame and embarrassment. “Of course, I’m an idiot.”

“Nah, it’s just-“ 

“Cords?” Coco calls, “You ready?”

Cordelia gives a pathetic wave and walks backwards towards them, saying, “It was nice to see you.”

It doesn’t help that Misty still smiles sweetly at her and gives a similar goodbye.

As they walk away, Coco smacks her upside the head, quickly so the girls don’t notice. “What the fuck was that?” she seethes quietly. 

“I don’t know. I _panicked_ , okay?”

“You are completely useless. A lost fucking cause.”

Three days before Christmas, Cordelia has had little time to dwell on her fuck up at the mall, not with Stella’s constant companionship since school had let out. They’re lying on the couch one morning, Stella on her chest as Cordelia scratches at her head. They’re watching another one of Stella’s god awful kid’s shows; but Cordelia wouldn’t trade these moments for anything, not even the ability to watch something with actors over the age of fifteen.

A commercial for Frozen 2 comes on, and Stella sticks her head up to ask, “Mommy?”

“Yes, baby.”

“What did we get Eloise for Chrithmas?”

“Shit,” she exclaims, quickly apologizing when Stella releases a tiny gasp, “sorry, Stell, I just forget to pick her up a gift.”

“So she’s not getting a present from us?” Stella’s upper lip trembles, on the verge of tears at the idea of her best friend being present-less.

“No, we’ll get her something today, okay? We can run to Target or the toy store.”

“She wants an Elsa doll, the kind they sell at the mall.”

_Jesus Christ._

“We’ll go after lunch, alright?” Stella accepts this happily and goes back to her show, leaving Cordelia to fret about upcoming run-ins with a certain elf.

The fifteen minute car ride to the mall has apparently lulled Stella into a deep sleep, and Cordelia is glad she will be able to carry her in and out without too much of a fuss. After snatching up the last toddler size Elsa doll and paying an arm and a leg for it, Cordelia rewards herself by standing in an even longer line for Starbucks.

Carefully balancing a sleeping Stella in one arm and the doll in the other, Cordelia is busy debating on peppermint mocha or her usual hot tea. She doesn’t notice the person behind her, not until they say, “Cordelia?”

Cordelia briefly flutters her eyes shut and thinks, _why me? I’m a good person._

She pivots sideways as to not jostle her child. Face to face with a real angel on earth, she manages not to fuck up a, “Hi again.”

“You just can’t get enough of this place, huh?” Misty is no longer dressed in her elf costume, making a long black skirt and white knit sweater look a whole lot better than they should.

_Can’t get enough of you, I guess._

“Yeah, well, you know I love fighting crowds and carrying a forty pound child everywhere I go.”

“Gosh, I never would have guessed.”

The line to the counter has not moved an inch, and Cordelia wonders why the universe hates her as their conversation lulls.

Just as she opens her mouth to say something probably very stupid, Misty says at the same time, “I was wonderin’-”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

Misty, on her behalf, doesn’t seem flustered. She spares a glance at Stella to make sure she’s still knocked out, confidently asking, “Would you like to have dinner with me?”

The air rushes from Cordelia’s lungs in one big gust, and it takes her a moment to blink herself back into this plane of existence.

Misty takes her period of silence as a negative, quickly backing away and mumbling, “I’m so sorry Cordelia, just forget that. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Wait,” Cordelia nearly screeches, “Yes, I want that. To have dinner with you.”

“You don’t have to say yes because I asked.”

“I’m saying yes because I mean it.”

“Okay,” Misty says suspiciously, a smile still tugging at her lips anyway. “Tomorrow? Is that too soon?”

Cordelia wracks her brain for what she has to do, delighted when she remembers Coco had planned to take both girls to see a movie so she could wrap the rest of Stella’s gifts. “That’s perfect,” she breathes, “I’m free.”

After exchanging numbers, Cordelia is on cloud nine for the rest of the day; only snapping out of it when Stella wakes up to say she wants ice cream for dinner and promptly returning back to sleep.

  
By five pm the next day, she is a basketcase.

Coco is reclined on her bed like she lives there; judging Cordelia’s outfit choices as though she’s a runway model.

“Too librarian.”

Cordelia looks down at her plaid a-line skirt and grimaces. “It’s cute.”

“It screams ‘I’d rather be shelving books than fantasizing about your fingers inside me.’”

“Must you be so crass?”

“Must you be so uptight? Can you live a little?”

“What do you suggest?”

Coco sighs dramatically, burdened by her wit and charm. “I suggest you bring her home after and get railed, but I know you’ll never do that.”

“I have a child, Coco. I can’t bring a practical stranger home.”

Coco swings her legs off the bed and stands in the doorway to yell down the hall, “Hey girls, how do y’all feel about having a sleepover?”

At the following shrieks of excitement, she turns and smirks. “You won’t have a child tonight. You’re welcome.”

After kissing Stella goodbye and sending her off with a backpack full of pajamas and clothes for tomorrow, Cordelia sits restlessly at her kitchen table. She’d changed into an approved outfit, a slim black dress that fell right above her knees. Simple, but effective for easy access; Coco had commented. Misty had texted her to say she’d be there in eight minutes, but in Cordelia’s world it may as well have been eight years.

A knock on the door startled her from self deprecating thoughts and she races towards it; counting to ten in her head to calm herself down.

Behind the open door stood Misty, dressed in a modest long sleeve white dress that cinches at the waist and dusts the floor at her ankles. Cordelia has a hard time wrenching her eyes from the lace detail at her chest. She looks magnificent, an entire dream Cordelia must have conjured up over the last five years while she’d been dating absolute flukes. This was - she was a goddess, and it looks like she hadn’t even tried. The pale moonlight ebbs behind her, giving off an ethereal glow that has Cordelia blinking herself out of a daze.

“Wow,” she marvels, “you look amazing.”

“You got any mirrors in here? You’re the amazing lookin’ one.”

Cordelia blushes, and something tells her this will not be the only time tonight.

Misty drives them carefully through a small town Cordelia has had yet to venture out in; not that she cares. Misty could be taking her to the swamps to murder her and dump the body and she thinks she’d still have a great time.

At a quaint restaurant, Cordelia strains her neck for a sign telling her where they are.

“Is Cajun food okay? I just think Italian is so boring. This reminds me of my childhood.”

Cordelia opens her mouth and closes it, afraid she’ll start confessing deep things she should keep to herself.

“Yes, yes, of course. It’s already the nicest date anyone’s ever taken me on.”

“We haven’t even eaten yet.”

“Trust me.”

Misty trusts her, hopping out to graciously open the car door for her. Instead of holding her hand like she wants, Cordelia settles for sliding her arm in the crook of her elbow and allowing Misty to guide them inside.

Over a table in the back room; darkened save for soft string lights and tea lights dotting window sills, Misty takes the reigns and orders them a bottle of white and Cajun shrimp as a starter.

“Sorry, I just love this place and know what’s great here.”

“You take all your dates here?” Cordelia jokes, then inwardly cringes at herself. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_.

Misty must be the nicest person in the world because she merely answers, “Only the pretty single moms to adorable five year olds.”

Cordelia blushes again.

“So, tell me about yourself.”

“Ah, well, there’s not much to tell. My life revolves around Stella, but I work as an education professor at the University of New Orleans. It’s easy, flexible hours, and my students love it when I bring Stell with me.”

“That’s awesome, Cordelia,” Misty says, and Cordelia can tell she means it. “How long have you been doing that?”

“Only about six years, before that I helped my mother run her academy for girls.”

“You must really love helpin’ kids out.”

“It’s a specialty, I guess. Tell me about you, please.” Cordelia wants to tell Misty to expose every detail about herself; what makes her happy, sad, and everything in between, but she starts slow.

“When I was a kid I really loved the idea of dressing up in puke green outfits and pandering to screaming children in a mall for eight hours.”

It takes Cordelia a second to realize that Misty is joking, breaking out into infectious laughter that makes her lightheaded.

“God, you should be an actress for a living. I _believed_ you,” she cries, dabbing the corner of her eyes with her cloth napkin.

“I’m so sorry, but that was worth the look on your face.”

“I spend all my free time with a child, sometimes I miss social cues,” Cordelia laughs again, feeling a little loose with the second glass of wine in her system.

“I think it’s cute,” Misty replies very seriously. “Nah, but really, the elf thing is just to save some extra money so I can open up my own flower shop in the spring.”

“A flower shop? That’s amazing, Misty.”

The conversation lifts easily from there, only slowing when their waiter returns with their appetizer and takes their order; blackened fish for Cordelia and jambalaya for Misty.

By the end of the meal, one and a half bottles of wine have been consumed, most by Cordelia, because Misty insists upon it.

“You deserve to let a little loose sometimes,” she chastises when Cordelia reveals the last time she’s been on a date.

The drive home is a blissful blur of streets lined with Christmas lights and the low sounds of Misty humming along to Joni Mitchell on the radio. Cordelia is quiet and content, allowing Misty to thread their fingers together and rest them on her thigh.

When she pulls up to Cordelia’s parking lot, they both speak at the same time.

“I hope you had fun tonig-” “Can I kiss you?”

If the question phases Misty, she doesn’t show it. “I’d really enjoy that.”

With all the alcohol in her system, Cordelia takes the confirmation with a grain of salt, carefully cupping Misty’s cheek and searching her eyes for any sign of hesitation. Misty leans in and closes the gap, making Cordelia’s eyes fly shut.

Misty is incredibly soft. So soft, in fact, that Cordelia can barely feel the press of her lips against her own. She crushes them harder, her hands moving blindly to tug Misty towards her with what little space they have over the center console. The kiss is both passionate and deep, making Cordelia whine every time Misty responds to the connection by tightly gripping at her shoulder.

Cordelia thinks her lungs may be on fire. She is burning so deliciously hot that it’s causing delirium, especially with the way Misty’s lips abandon her mouth and move down to the long expanse of her neck. She would find a way to chastise herself for making out in a car like a horny teenager, but then Misty’s mouth is pressing blazing kisses down her throat as she murmurs a quiet, _you’ve been driving me crazy all night._

Maybe it’s the wine or maybe it’s the way Misty has been staring at her so reverently all evening, but Cordelia breaks apart, chest heaving and lipstick smeared, asks, “Will you come upstairs with me?” She’d never been so comfortable in the presence of another human, especially not one she’d had a measly two hour date with, but well, shit happens. Over the table, Cordelia had shared things; deep things that she never would have begun to share with people she knew for barely two weeks.

There’s just _something_ about Misty. She's the kind of woman that'll leave a mark on Cordelia's life; a force to be reckoned with. Even if their interaction doesn't go beyond the cloak of this one night, Cordelia has stored every moment in her memory for future use.

“I don’t want to push this. Push you.” Misty is similarly disheveled, lips pink and wet and insanely arousing.

“We don’t have to do anything.” _Unless you want, please say you want._ “I was supposed to wrap Christmas gifts tonight.” She fails to mention there’s one particular gift she’d love to _unwrap_.

“Okay,” Misty grins, “I can do that.”

They’re barely inside the door when Misty pins her back against it, threading her fingers through soft blonde waves to angle her head up for more kisses. These kisses are different, now fast paced and reckless, a clear indicator of where their night will be heading. Maybe it’s a terrible idea, and maybe Cordelia should stop to think about this, but Misty’s roaming hands and warm mouth are all over her body and to deny this carnal desire would be stupid, right?

“What happened to wrapping gifts?” Her breathless laugh turns into an exhale the next second when Misty’s hand slips innocently under the hem of her dress and up a thigh.

“I know a guy that knows some elves,” Misty jibes, pressing their chests together and relishing the soft moan it emits. She drops down to her knees and lifts Cordelia’s dress like she means it, stopping to admire the black lace covering her bottom half. Pressing a chaste kiss on her lower stomach, Misty rests her cheek on a warm thigh and asks, “Is this okay?”

Misty starts kissing her there through her panties and it’s a struggle for her to find the right string of words to say that, _yes, I think I’m gone off the rails for you_ , so Cordelia simply nods and tugs Misty back up for a dirty, wet kiss.

She allows herself to be walked backwards down the hall, blindly feeling for the walls to guide them; unable to remove her lips from Misty’s own. Flinging the bedroom door open, she takes a step back and trips on a lego in the middle of the room; only to be caught gracefully by strong arms.

“Shit, sorry,” she kicks the offending object across the floor, hoping she hadn't just ruined the mood.

When she looks back at Misty, her eyes glaze over. In the time it’s taken her to glance down, Misty has rid herself of her dress and is now standing in a navy blue matching lingerie set, looking like an absolute vision. The way her hair falls in ringlets over the navy straps has Cordelia’s heart stuttering in her chest. 

She asks again, “Is this okay?”

Cordelia swallows. Her mind is racing, too muddled with desire and the alcohol to form a proper thought. She nods, reaching out towards Misty to tug her by the waist, her half naked body brushing up against a still clothed one; eliciting a tremor that wracks through Misty’s small frame. Cordelia lightly shoves her on the bed and enjoys the way her chest bounces lightly with the movement.

Misty reclines there like it’s where she belongs, head lulling to the side as she sweetly asks, “Can you take that dress off? I’ve been dyin’ to see what’s underneath.”

The dress is gone and on the floor in three seconds.

Cordelia crawls on the bed and lies down next to her, allowing their lips to connect once more. Misty slides a thigh up between her legs and Cordelia instinctively grinds down on it, gasping when she realizes how wet she already is.

_Has it really been that long?_

“You gotta tell me you want this,” Misty husks, her voice insanely low and laced with want, “Because I’ve been thinking about doing it since I met you.”

“I want it. I want you.”

Misty takes that confirmation happily, moving down on the bed to hook her thumbs into the waistband of her panties. Cordelia lifts her hips to help the fabric come down, and Misty’s small gasp has the blood rushing from her brain.

“Jesus, you’re _dripping_.”

Cordelia would love to reply back with a snarky comment saying that she knows this, but then Misty’s tongue is on her and her vision goes a little blurry.

“ _Fuck_ , Misty.”

One hand whiteknuckles the bedsheet beside her, the other tugging gently on a handful of untamable hair. She rolls her hips up into Misty’s face, but luckily Misty does not seem to want to drag this out. Wrapping both hands under each thigh, she holds Cordelia down to take her clit between lips, alternating between lightly massaging it and sucking roughly.

Misty eats her out diligently, working her tongue through the wetness and burying it deeper, taking a wrecking ball to Cordelia’s normally calm and collected façade. She uses one hand to spread her legs open wider and can feel the clench of her stomach muscles, licking a deliberate line from her center back up to her bundle of nerves.

Cordelia is too busy writhing and moaning to hear Misty murmuring - and _Jesus,_ her fucking _tongue_ \- only catching the tail end of something that sounds a lot like, “tastes _so_ good.”

Two long fingers slide inside of her and start thrusting, and that is when Cordelia cries out, quickly reduced to a boneless, quivering mess. With one more swipe of a warm tongue, she arches up and comes in Misty’s mouth; violently and intensely.

Misty lovingly kisses her way back up Cordelia’s stomach when the tremors subside, cherishing the way she looks absolutely spent. When she reaches her face, she tries to kiss her mouth, only to be playfully shoved away.

“Don’t come near me, you’re a demon.”

“Ah, you don’t mean that, now do ya?” Misty dances her fingers across the constellation of freckles dotting Cordelia’s chest.

“You’ve ruined me,” she accuses, “how will I ever live up to that?”

“I believe in you,” Misty replies, sitting up and ridding herself of her bra. With all the ways Cordelia has been turned on tonight, this sends a new rush of arousal through her; a wave of hunger that wants to make Misty feel just as good as she does.

“Lie back,” she demands, and Misty looks all too thrilled to comply. Hovering, she admits, “I don’t - I haven’t done this in a while,” soothed when she seems to understand her completely.

“Stay up here, with me.”

Face to face, Cordelia shakes off the tightness in her chest and brushes their noses together, warm fingers crawling down to find the wet heat between her legs. There are small whimpers coming from Misty’s mouth, filling the stale bedroom air with a symphony of noises that have no right being so stimulating. Her fingers are soaking wet and Misty is whispering these filthy, _filthy_ praises, and somewhere in the back of Cordelia’s mind she knows at this exact moment that she is absolutely fucked.

“Right there,” Misty murmurs, her hips bucking as Cordelia explores her slowly, two fingers rubbing gently at her clit. It’s fascinating to her how Misty can be both adorable and sexy at the same time, especially with the way her eyes flutter shut and her lips pucker open. The prettiest thing she’s ever seen.

“I’ve thought about this so many times,” Misty shifts further into the firm press of Cordelia’s fingertips, a tiny yelp launching from the back of her throat when those fingers start swirling. “Every night since we met.”

The idea of Misty spending her nights alone with these erotic desires is too much to comprehend; let alone reply to, so Cordelia merely hums in response and continues moving her hand beneath Misty’s panties. 

Misty is letting out these breathy little moans and her hand is sliding down to touch Cordelia again and it’s so much, so much, _so much_ that the dam breaks and she comes easily for the second time, pushing Misty over the edge right behind her.

As they ride out the waves together, teeth knocking and bodies jerking, Cordelia has a fleeting moment of terror that Misty will leave her after this, that she’ll go home and they’ll never see each other again. It sends a genuine pang of sadness through her, like Misty isn’t staring at her with genuine adoration in those perfect fucking eyes.

Cordelia cradles her face and slides their lips together for a lazy post-orgasmic kiss, feels herself get swept away by a wave of emotion. It’s easy to get lost in this. The idea of shutting her eyes and waking up to an empty bed is horrifying.

“Christ, Cordelia, my heart’s flutterin’ like crazy,” Misty breathes, settling her head in the crook of her arm. She’s so warm; both inside and out, like this has satisfied her beyond belief. When there is no attempt to make up some lame excuse about needing to leave, Cordelia relaxes and allows the usually empty space in her bed to be filled so effortlessly. It feels like Cordelia has spent lifetimes roaming this earth for someone who fills the emptiness of her heart, and it’s scaring her that Misty seems to fit the bill so quickly. It’s so soon and definitely reckless, but she’s tired of waiting for the perfect person to come along when it seems like this gift has been dropped right here at her doorstep.

They lay like that, both on the cusp of light sleep when Cordelia’s phone blares, a ringtone unique only to Coco. She flies up, hitting accept and immediately wondering, “What’s wrong?”

It’s after 1am, and Cordelia knows that when the person taking care of your child calls now it’s never a good sign.

“She’s fine, Cordelia, Stella is fine,” Coco’s calm voice over the line does nothing to dissipate the pit in Cordelia’s stomach, not even when Misty places a comforting palm on her thigh. She can hear wailing in the background, and her motherly instincts immediately kick in. “I put them to bed and Stell woke up screaming that she needs her stuffed alligator. I’m sorry, I really tried to get her to lie back down.”

“It’s okay, Co, put her on the line.”

Stella’s small voice comes over the phone, and Cordelia’s heart breaks. “Hi mommy.”

“Hi baby, what’s the matter?”

“You forgot to pack Mr. Buttons.”

“I’m so sorry, love bug. You don’t think he’ll be fine here with me?”

“ _No_. I need him.”

“I - okay, can you put Auntie Coco back on the line?”

“Hey.”

“Hey, I’m gonna swing the stuffed animal by soon, alright? I’m sorry.”

“That’s fine, I’d come get it but El is knocked out and you know what a mess she is when I wake her up.”

“I’ll be there in twenty. Thanks, babe.”

She tosses the phone on the nightstand and nearly forgets she has a companion, turning to offer an apology to the divine being in her bed.

“I have to go, I’m sorry,” she’s scrambling to pull on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, searching desperately for her bra that Misty had flung somewhere at some point. “ _Goddamnit_ ,” she wails, “I can’t drive, I had too much wine earlier.”

“Cordelia, let me take you.”

“No, it’s fine, I just need to order an Uber, and then I’ll-“

“I’m taking you.”

“I can’t ask you for that.”

“You didn’t ask, I offered.”

“I don’t-“ 

“Cordelia.”

  
They’re in the car three minutes later, Mr. Buttons clutched desperately in Cordelia’s grasp.

“You didn’t have to do this, thank you.”

“I do it for all the girls I like,” Misty jokes, and Cordelia freezes.

“You like me?” _You idiot, she just had her mouth all over you, of course she likes you._

“Sorry, is that weird? If you want this to be like a one-night thing I’ll be fine with it.”

Cordelia doesn’t believe that for one second.

“No, that’s not weird. I like you too.”

“Yeah?”

“A lot.”

“Okay,” Misty raises an eyebrow and smirks, “Good.”

Twenty minutes later, she pulls up to Coco’s driveway and Cordelia hops out, knocking on the door.

Coco opens it, looking way too put together for it being nearly two in the morning.

“I’m so sorry, Co, it was my fault I forgot the stupid thing.”

“It’s fine, I gave her some milk while she waited.”

Stella comes skirting around the corner, launching herself into Cordelia’s open arms as she crouches down. Her cheeks are stained with tears but she looks relieved her mother has come through on her promise.

“Hi, my angel, look who I brought.”

The five year old snatches the stuffed alligator and immediately hugs Cordelia again, burying her face into a warm neck. She whispers a muffled, “Thanks mommy.”

“Of course. Did you have fun tonight?”

“Mhm, Auntie Coco let me have three cookies.” She holds up four fingers, considers for a moment, and then puts one down.

Coco narrows her eyes. “What part of ‘don’t tell your mother’ don’t you understand, Stell?”

Stella finally removes herself from the embrace and asks, “Mommy?”

“Yes?”

“Why is the elf from the mall in the driveway? And why is she wearing your p‘jama shirt?”

Coco whips her head around so fast that Cordelia is surprised she doesn’t get whiplash. Crossing her arms around herself, she grins, “Yeah, Cords, why is she?”

Cordelia glances at the ground, hoping desperately a sinkhole will open up and swallow her whole.

“We’re friends now, is that okay?”

“You can be friends with an elf?” Stella looks suspiciously between the car and her mother.

“Yes,” she says slowly, wanting to broach the topic but realizes now is most definitely not the time. “I think we’ll be spending more time together. Does that bother you?”

Stella considers this for a moment, ultimately deciding that no, it doesn’t bother her, not when she has a direct connection to Mr. Claus. 

That’s all Cordelia needs to finally breath normally all evening. She sends Stella back to bed, promising her she’ll be back to pick her up the following day.

Coco has clearly brewed herself coffee while they waited for Cordelia, that _bitch_. Way too alert, she coyly asks, “How was the date? Still going, I presume.”

_It was amazing. I think I’m in love. Can you be in love after a first date?_

“It was fine,” she says curtly.

“I don’t know why I even asked, there’s lipstick all over your neck.”

“Goodnight, Coco.”

“Have a great time,” she wiggles her fingers at Misty who returns the gesture cheerfully, “Glad she did a little dusting and got rid of the cobwebs.”

Cordelia flips her off.

On the drive home, Misty seems to be in tune with Cordelia’s silent thought process, carefully wondering, “What are you thinking?”

“That I’m a terrible mother.”

“Woah, that’s - Cordelia that’s not true and you know it. Why do you think that?”

“I know it’s a stupid stuffed animal, but God forbid it had been medication or something else important. What happens next time when I’m asleep and miss the phone call? What happens when-”

Misty signals a right turn and pulls them off the road with ease, parking her car on a side street.

“Cordelia, look at me.”

She refuses to look, on the verge of tears.

“Cordelia.”

Finally making eye contact, Cordelia bursts into tears and sobs, burying her face in Misty’s neck when she unbuckles herself and scrambles over to hold her.

“It’s okay, baby, let it out.”

“Now I look like a fucking idiot,” she cries, “I’m so sorry.”

“Still pretty cute, I’d reckon.”

“I mean it, I’m being ridiculous.”

“Nah, I just wanna know what’s goin’ on in that cute little head a’ yours, you know? Your cryin’ doesn’t bother me any.”

“I’m crying because,” Cordelia hitches a breath with this, feigning the confidence that’s fled at some point in the night. “I really like you and it scares me because I have a child and I’m afraid you’ll leave like my ex did when things got too hard.”

She closes her eyes and desperately wishes for a beam of light to come out of the sky and suck her up into an alien spacecraft. It’s deserved, after spilling her feelings out over the interior of Misty’s car. The silence is deafening, so warranted especially after Cordelia’s just acted like a lunatic. On their first date, no less.

“You really are something, Cordelia Goode.”

Cordelia cracks one eye open at the amusement in her tone, eyeing her suspiciously at the fact that she hasn’t been kicked out and left on the side of the road. “What do you-”

“I really like you too,” Misty interrupts. Cordelia’s heart swells, unable to believe that. Thinks maybe she heard that wrong, but then the absolute angel in the driver’s seat continues, “I know that Stella is always going to come first, but I would love to be able to spend more time with you and her, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah,” Cordelia sniffles, “That’s okay. She already adores you.”

“Alrighty then. You done cryin’ all over that pretty face of yours?”

“Take me home, please.”

When Misty pulls up to her apartment again, Cordelia invites her upstairs before she has the chance to say anything. Wordlessly, Cordelia takes her by the hand and leads her back into her bedroom, where she pulls back the sheets and crawls into them. She waits on baited breath as Misty watches her carefully for a moment, ultimately deciding that being next to Cordelia is where she belongs. Tonight, tomorrow, hopefully forever.

“Will you stay here tonight? With me?”

Misty simply nods, curls her cold toes around a warm leg, and closes her eyes.

In the morning, amidst the flurry of wrapping paper and gifts she’d neglected to wrap last night, Misty makes her a cup of coffee and even offers to help. Cordelia caves allows herself to slip into a fantasy world where this domesticity isn’t a figment of her desires; but instead a reality she can have every morning. 

Which is why, exactly one year and one day later on Christmas morning, Cordelia proposes to Misty in front of their closest friends and her enthusiastic six year old. The confirmation comes as a surprise to absolutely no one, not with the way they’d spent the last year handcrafting a simple life that is borderline annoyingly perfect to everyone outside of their relationship.

Cordelia doesn’t care about that; doesn’t care about anything besides the twinkle in Misty’s eye as she slides the ring on her finger. When Stella flings herself in Misty’s lap and cries her own little tears of joy, it may have well been a real, goddamn Christmas miracle.

All because of an elf. 

**Author's Note:**

> i've had??? the best year writing for y'all
> 
> this is for phoebe, alyx and britt the loves of my life
> 
> [bird app](http://twitter.com/moonmotels1)
> 
> tumblr


End file.
